


Blue

by shatteredcrystalwings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Kinda, M/M, No Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredcrystalwings/pseuds/shatteredcrystalwings
Summary: Blue was Yuuri's favourite colour, encompassing everything that brought him love, happiness, and the hopes he never dreamed would become reality.





	

If asked, Yuuri couldn’t say when it was that blue became his favourite colour. It simply had always appealed to him, that which he had gravitated to naturally for as long as he could remember. 

Blue was the colour of the ocean just a short walk from where he grew up. His mother had taken him and his sister to that beach to play innumerable times since they were babies. The blue of the ocean was one filled with games of jumping over the seafoam that bordered the waves crashing against the shore; of the sounds of seagulls crying as they flew high above, occasionally swooping down to make an attempt at the food his or other families had brought; of soft sand pressing between toes, so hot in the summer sun that it felt as though it would burn.

Blue was the colour of the sky on those rare warm winter days when the clouds were sparse, the few that persisted appearing as soft as cotton candy as they scuttled towards the horizon. Those days, when the snow glowed so white it was almost painful to look at, were the ones that made winter Yuuri’s favourite season. Cold enough for the snow to still remain but warm enough for it to stick. The days that were filled with snowball fights and forts and snowmen.

And when he was twelve, blue gained new meaning in the colour of his idol’s eyes.

Blue was the colour that peered at him from the posters that slowly grew to canvas nearly every surface of his bedroom. Whenever he had the money, Yuuri would rush to the corner store to rifle through every sports magazine they sold, searching for even the smallest photo or article. Every poster and picture was cut out and taped to the walls of his room, every interview and featurette carefully clipped and stored in a blue box covered in stickers on his desk. Blue was the colour of the shirt Viktor had been wearing in the picture Yuuri had been cutting out when Mari had jokingly asked him if he was in love with the skater and he came to the realization that his feelings had breached over from “admiration” to “crush”.

Blue was the colour of the collar and matching leash he bought for Vicchan, the toy poodle his parents had let him adopt only after  _ months _ of begging and a perfect score on his most recent test. He quickly grew to love Vicchan as much as he did the man he had named him after. The dog became an almost constant companion, joining him on runs and snuggling into his lap every time he sat down. At night, when everyone else had gone to sleep, he would sometimes whisper things to Vicchan that he was too shy to tell the others around him. Things like how there was a cute boy who sat a few rows ahead of him in class, or how he had snuck some of the chocolate his mother had been saving.

Blue was the colour of the roses Viktor wore on his head when he won gold at eighteen with a program that Yuuri watched and practiced until his feet bled, trying again and again at the quads that seemed so much simpler when Viktor was the one jumping them. Someday he would be up there on the podium with him, he would tell himself. Even if it meant pain and blood, bruised knees and twisted ankles and bandaged toes, he would keep working until the two of them could finally meet on the same rink.

Blue was the colour of Yuuri’s free skate costume when he was fifteen and finally old enough to join the same division as Viktor, only to lose horrifically during nationals when the pressure proved to be too much. Yet still he tried again the next year and the next, and every time, it got a bit easier. Every time, he place a bit higher. Every time, the jumps became a bit more polished and the anxiety was more easily pushed down, hidden until he got off the ice and no longer had to force it back. Often, it would be let out in the form of tears hidden in bathroom stalls after his scores, always too low, were announced. 

Blue was the colour he had worn when he placed last at his first Grand Prix Final in a performance so dreadful he hoped Viktor  _ hadn’t _ cared enough about his competitors to watch. Blue was the colour of his jacket when Viktor called out to him for a commemorative photo, mistaking him for any other fan, and Yuuri’s pessimistic hope transformed into heartbreak. Blue was the colour of the glasses that caught the tears he couldn’t stop as he turned and walked away from the person he had spent so long yearning for.

Blue was the colour of the sportswear he had donned when he showed Yuko his copy of Viktor’s Stammi Vicino, unaware that it was being recorded by her far too excitable triplets who had far too much knowledge of how to use the internet. 

That blue of those eyes he had seen so many times in dozens upon dozens of tabloid pictures over the years seemed to glisten so much more when they met with his own.

That blue of the ocean seemed to hold so much more promise as he gazed out at it, listening to Viktor’s words of how Yuuri wasn’t weak, how Viktor was willing to be whatever he wanted him to be.

That blue of the sky seemed so much brighter from the window of the plane to China as Viktor slept beside him, head resting on his shoulder as Yuuri felt his own eyes grow heavy.

That blue of his free skate costume, though a darker hue, seemed warmer than any he had worn previously as he skated the program he and Viktor had produced together, telling the story of Yuuri’s career up to this point and the love that had inspired him and helped him grow stronger than he had ever imagined over the past months. 

Blue was the colour Yuuri had worn as the two shared their first kiss, chaste and hesitant after practice the first time Yuuri had skated that same program in its completed form, a much less dramatic version of the kiss they would later share on live television after Yuuri changed the quad toe loop to a quad flip. 

Blue was the colour Yuuri had worn as he slipped a gold ring onto Viktor’s trembling finger, his words shaking and his cheeks flushed from both the cold and a mixture of embarrassment and nerves, the anxiety quickly washing from his body as Viktor pulled a ring out of his own pocket. 

So it only stood to reason that it was a blue tie, one that Viktor had insisted on picking out, that Yuuri wore on the day he had never dared dream could become reality. Blue was the colour of Viktor’s eyes, watery and crinkled with happiness as he stood before Yuuri and the two exchanged their vows. 

To many, blue was a colour associated with sadness.

But for Yuuri, blue was the colour of a happiness stronger than any he had believed existed.

**Author's Note:**

> This show broke me in the best of ways and I hope I never recover.
> 
> I had originally planned to make this shorter and follow it up with a segment about Viktor's favourite colour, but apparently Yuuri wanted to hog the spotlight. I hope all my flowery wording makes sense orz


End file.
